Lagniappe
by Poppy2
Summary: She hated the wealth and arrogance of Troy, wanting nothing to do with its nobility, yet forced into their grasp. He was so infatuated with her, he would deceive his crown to make her love him in return. AndroHector with an interesting twist
1. Chapter 1: A Hatred of Politics

(A/N) Hello all you beautiful people willing to read my little story. This is my first Troy fic and I decided to have a little fun with it. The style will take after many of my other fics and I plan on trying to stay relatively true to many aspects of Trojan life. I've also decided to follow neither Homer nor the movie; rather, I'll use them for reference.

This is a Hector/Andromache fic based on their earlier courtship which was depicted in neither The Iliad or Troy. I've read a few of the A/H fics out there particularly by Adania and Mary-Scot and have decided to take a bit of a... twist... to the normal sequence of events used to make the pair fall in love. I hope you enjoy the story and please leave a review to tell me what you think so far or if you have any suggestions.

**Disclaimer:** I am the owner of neither Troy or the Iliad. They belong to their respective creators. I am merely borrowing the ideas and indulging the inspiration they have forthwith given me.

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**Beguiled  
Chapter 1: A Hatred of Politics**

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The air was stale, bitter with a malicious texture of sweat and sand that coated his flesh like a grainy skin. An odd omen, he thought looking out upon the vastness of a placid, rolling sea disturbed only minimally by a small ship cutting smoothly between the angular waves. It would hit the beach in only a few moments he decided as emissaries from the nearby city flocked forward from within the harbor to intercept the arriving ship. Sighing in annoyance to himself, he scanned the many figures below with a disgust he rarely felt for his own people.  
  
Apparently the Thebians had set course the moment they heard of Priam's slight interest in allying himself to their limited country. Knowledge of King Eetion's slowly diminishing health and the lack of his sons' experience in politics were well known leaving the elderly man with little choice but to seek alliances for himself with other, stronger rulers.   
  
He sighed again fitting his helmet securely upon his head for all to view, the high, ebony tail a sure sign of his status swaying across his back as he moved. Politics. He hated them with a passion that seared and swelled with the severity of an open wound that made his teeth clench and his mind broil with daunting and distracting thoughts. Hopefully his father would deal with these dependants quickly and efficiently before their ideals and plight caught his sympathy, if not...  
  
"Antenor!" he called. "Take the men back into the city and make sure they are paid just as well as they fought."  
  
A large man rode forward, his shoulders back and his stance relaxed as he approached. "Will you not be accompanying us, my Prince? The city is but a few minutes away."  
  
"I have business to attend to," he said looking pointedly down at the docking ship being serviced below in the harbor.  
  
The other man chuckled softly under his breath raising a thick hand to smooth the wiry hairs against his neck. "They just keep coming, don't they? One vulnerable city after another. Pretty soon it looks as though your father will have more of a lecherous brethran than an empire."  
  
"Indeed, but that isn't what concerns me so greatly," the younger man nearly groaned leaning heavily against his horse's withers. "What bothers me about all these alliances is that he sends me to make them and deal with theses foreign people when he knows I hate arrogant men and their distorted ideas of politics. I have more demanding ways to use my time."  
  
"Think of it as practice, Hector," Antenor smiled weilding his mount closer to firmly grip the distraught prince's shoulder. "Your father wouldn't send you to deal with these old, winded ambassadors if he thought you could not deal with it yourself. It makes him proud to know that you can do it with little guidance."  
  
An odd expression passed the youth's face while his free hand absently adjusted his helmet and armour. "I must go," he said effectively ending the exchange. "Make sure all the soldiers tend their horses before they are paid."  
  
Antenor nodded watching the prince slowly canter toward the group of Thebians and their respective Trojan guides, a wary, boding feeling settling deep within his stomch. He waited until he could hardly define the horse's fluent movements before calling out to the brigade of soldiers, ordering them to carry on towards the gates with only a single glance over his rounded shoulder.  
  
Hector felt the stiffness in his horse's stride acutely, the wiry rise and fall of the muscles beneath his own legs slightly trembling from wear. Servants worked quietly on the ship raising objects from under the hull and depositing them carefully on the sand as others arranged materials methodically on wagons waiting to be taken to the palace. He quickly counted ten emissaries sent doubtlessly by his father to receive their early guests and nearly thirty Thebians, four of whom wore fine linen and held themselves with a sense of decorum. They spoke amicably between themselves gesturing now and again at an item being placed in a wagon or a spot on the horizon of some importance obviously glad to be grounded and at the end of their journey. As he approached the conversation fell dry, perplexed expressions dotting the faces of both Trojans and Thebians.  
  
"Welcome," he said firmly removing his helmet for the sake of being polite and accomodating. "I'm Prince Hector of Troy, eldest son of King Priam." He dismounted smoothly taking the reigns and handing them to a Thebian servant whom rushed poignantly to his side.  
  
A young man stepped out from among the group, his auburn hair falling in curiously tight curls about his face and his mouth stretched wide in an amiable smile. He stretched out a long, thin hand and Hector took it rigidly declining from offering back his own warm smile at the other's caprice and tenacity.  
  
"I'm Prince Podes of Thebe, third son of King Eetion," he replied enthusiastically hardly perturbed by the other's stoic mannerisms. "I'm honored to finally meet you, the man behind Troy's impregnable army. I've heard many stories."  
  
Hector allowed a ghost of a smile at the young prince's admission but remained silent upon the interjection of another voice.  
  
"My prince," an emissary spoke out interrupting the pair. "I thought you were still campaigning in the south."  
  
"As a matter of fact I was just coming home when I spotted your ship coming upon the horizon," he said amusedly giving a pointed look to Podes. "I thought it would be a fair idea to greet our visitors personally before they arrived in the palace, but I'm afraid I can't stay. I have yet to reach the gates and I have not seen home in two months. Many people are eagerly awaiting my report as well."   
  
Slipping his helmet securely over his head once more, he nodded to the men before retrieving his horse from the servant and slid himself fluidly onto the animal's back.  
  
"A wise decision," Podes mentioned looking through the mid-day sun to see the shadow of Hector's face beyond the opening of his bronze helmet. "Hurry home, Prince Hector. I'm sure you've missed it sorely while you were gone and I'm sure you have been missed just as deeply by your family and your people in return."  
  
"Thank you," he warmly replied grinning wryly and gathering the reigns in his hand, situating his fingers through the cords. "I shall see you shortly once you arrive at the palace. Our men will help you until then," he said gesturing to the ten men that stood to his right with a nod. His gaze scanned the harbor where the ship was steadily anchored assuring himself that everything would be properly cared for during his absence.  
  
The other prince nodded in affirmation watching Hector's eyes flick precariously around the area taking in every detail and issue with precision and accuracy. And then they stopped, his eyes fixing on an object far beyond the Thebian prince's shoulder. His expression became bewildered and vaguely curious as he stared entranced causing the other to turn and seek out the source of his interest.  
  
A lone maiden stood silhouetted against the slowly setting sun, her profile facing the onlookers as she too gazed out at some space in the horizon, a whimsical smile gracing her defined features softening them to a feminine quality.  
  
Podes's smile rounded taking on a mature theme as he addressed Hector once more from below his horse. "My sister, Princess Anromache."  
  
"Your sister?" Hector replied disbelieving, his voice etched in irritation. "Why would King Eetion send his daughter to Troy?"  
  
Unaffected, Podes continued smiling despite Hector's harsh tone. "Father wished for her to see the world before he arranged a marriage for her. He said it would make her wiser and better endowed for possible future suitors."  
  
"I doubt Troy should have been the choice of all places to send her though," he nearly growled, annoyance tinging his words. "It's too far a distance for a woman to travel for something as trivial as seeing outside her country."  
  
Podes shrugged, "I suppose, but it isn't my place to question my father; besides, Troy is a magnificent city with little to be desired. It would easily fulfill most of her intellectual needs I would suppose." He thought a moment before continuing, "She's a fine woman, very learned and talented. You two may get along well. He gave Hector an jubilant glance before calling out her name, motioning for her to accompany them when she turned. "Come give your regards to Prince Hector!"  
  
She stood for a moment staring casually down at them, her quiet beauty laying latent in the corners of her eyes as she calmly scrutinized the carvings and lines running along the surface of Hector's helmet trying to peer beyond its folds. A moment later she turned retreating down into the open hull of the ship and out of sight of those watching without a single word or form of acknowledgement to any of the men waiting expectantly on the harbor beach.  
  
"I think you may want to reconsider the possibilities of the princess and I becoming well acquainted," Hector remarked sarcastically slightly offended by being so easily avoided.  
  
One of the Thebian ambassadors snorted puffing out his chest indignantly. "Impudent woman," he muttered slightly shaking his head. "She knows nothing about respect. It's best to just ignore her really."  
  
An annoyed look passed Podes's eyes before he quickly shook it away and turned to stare back at Hector as the Trojan prince adjusted his armour squarely atop his shoulders. "I must appologize, Prince Hector. Usually she is not so rude. I'm sure she's just tired from the long journey and isn't sure of her actions."  
  
Hector nodded in understanding turning his horse back toward the direction of his illustrious city, his home. "Welcome to Troy, Prince Podes. If your people should require any services once you reach the city just ask and we shall try to accomodate you, until then I must be on my way."  
  
"Thank you," Podes replied, his mischievious smile slipping quickly back into place as he watched Hector ride away at an even gate before becoming solemn once more.  
  
He turned to the ship advancing up the boarding plank and carefully ambling to the opening of the hull where he could hear a series of soft sobs and quiet sniffling echo within the rigid compartment. "Andromache?" he questioned lowering himself to look down into the room below.   
  
"I can't do it," he heard her whisper between sobs, the urgency in her voice entreating in its melancholy timbre.   
  
"Can't do what?" he asked only to hear her sobs becoming more forceful as she refused to answer.   
  
He lowered himself down slowly seeking out her hunched figure sitting huddled between the wall and a barrel, her legs raised protectively to her chest as she swaddled them in her arms crying  
  
"Andromache, what do you mean you can't do it?" he inquired stepping closer to her prone form until he stood in front of her, his stature bent at the waist to stare helplessly at her shaking and heaving body.  
  
"Please don't do it," she pleaded. "Please don't sell me to that man."  
  
"What's gotten into you?" he asked her a bit harsher than he intended grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently.  
  
"He's a murderer!" she cried out suddenly recoiling from his touch and burrowing into the sanctuary her corner offered. "That among other things. I don't want to belong to him. Please, I couldn't live such a life," she cried, her emotions welling in the base of her throat. "Don't give me to him."  
  
Podes watched her silently as her back trembled and her shoulders shook with the force of her wrenching sobs. Instinct compelled him to reach out and hold his sister, but the circumstances were different now than they had been in Thebe and there was little he could do to alter that. Their entire family had made sacrifices to keep the kingdom protected and prosperous, now it was her turn to do the same. As much as it deeply tore at him, he neglected her pleas, turning soundly on his heel and advancing back toward the surface of the ship.   
  
"We leave for the gates of Troy in less than fifteen minutes, be out and ready by then," he stated, the callousness in his voice causing her weeping to diminish out of shame rather than comfort. Before he was out of earshot, however, he carefully told her, "Don't grieve so soon, Andromache. Hector may not be willing as far as we know."  
  
He heard her sniffle and her dress rustle slightly as she nodded her ascent before he retreated down the boarding plank back toward the group of elder men still talking along the beach as the servants hurried to manage their belongings. In the back of his mind, a noble part of him hoped Hector would in fact accept his father's gift, no matter how much it pained his sister. For the good of his people, he prayed. Soon the Greeks would come for Thebe, and then it would be too late.

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And so the stage is slowly being set. Please review, it would mean far more to me than you may realize and it takes but a minute or so.

Also, Podes was in fact the name of one of Andromache's seven brothers. He was in Troy when the city was sacked and he was killed by Menelaus during the seige. His name is pronounced poe-d-ace; poe like Edgar Allen Poe and ace like the card. I have yet to see someone else use him in their story though so I suppose I'm the first. I'll have a few other small facts about Andromache and Hector's families later on in the story, but until then, _do your own research!!_ lol, j/k Thanks for reading!!


	2. Chapter 2: A Love For One's Country

(A/N) Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!! I had a few comments about people being afraid I would slip into the clique "she hates his guts" thing and all I can say is wait and read. I want this to be as unclique as possible. Also, I'm sorry for grammatical errors or if my syntax is awkward. I don't have a spell check or a great computer so please bear with me. I reread my chapters before posting, but I occasionally miss something important. Thanks again, and please review!! Even two words can make my day.

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**Lagniappe  
Chapter 2: A Love For One's Country**

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"Eetion requests an alliance, does he?"   
  
"Yes, good king," the other responded bowing his head of curls in Priam's presence. "It would honor him to have you on his side in the face of so many adverse enemies; two countries unified in peace."  
  
Priam smiled slowly, glancing to the angry face of his eldest son sitting at his side and then upon the youth kneeling before his throne. "You care for your country very deeply, don't you Prince Podes?"  
  
After an awkward moment, the young prince nodded softly adding, "Yes I do, good king. It is the very flesh of my skin and bones."  
  
"I suppose few men unlike yourself would do anything for their country. Such matters require courage," Priam said languidly giving a pointed look to Hector whom softened slightly at the statement. "But still," he continued; "I find it odd that your father would seek our alliance so suddenly and so eagerly, especially with the Greeks so keen on currently expanding their empire across the Aegean."  
  
"My father thought you should like to have a strong ally on the peninsula in case of an invasion," Podes stated mildly avoiding the frigid look set squarely in the Trojan heir's gaze.  
  
"Or maybe he seeks a caretaker for his own insecurities," Hector bit, his voice rasping in malice as he stood to advance on the kneeling young man watching the king's knees in terrified doubt. Only his father's hand raised in front of his breastplate halted his actions forcing his tirade to the side with a bitter hiss.  
  
Priam stared at Hector's back a moment reading the tension laying beneath his straining muscles and motioned for the Thebian to stand. "I will consider your offer," he said quietly, barely loud enough for the entire counsel to hear. "We will meet again later for more intimate negotiations once I have discussed your proposal with my advisors. Until then, feel free to tour our great city and enjoy our people. I think you will find the experience to be quite agreeable."  
  
"Thank you," Podes smiled warmed by the king's calm disposition. He bowed to the counsel before quietly taking his leave, the sound of the door thumping behind him as it closed a signal for the room's remaining inhabitants to begin their disputes.  
  
"We can't do this, father," Hector pleaded stomping back to his father's side and gesturing hopefully to him with open hands while his eyes beseeched those of the older man. "Thebe is one of Agamemnon's first targets on the peninsula. If he attacks the city will be destroyed in days long before we can reach them through the Idaean Gulf."  
  
"Yes, but perhaps our influence on Thebe will deter Agamemnon," a counselor piped standing quickly to emphasize his point. "He has yet to gain any true strength in Greece. Besides, Thebe is endowed with many virtues being so close to the Kemer River. It may be to our advantage to accept their proposals."  
  
"They are endowed with silt and game animals, nothing that would be of use to us should the Greeks lay siege," Hector countered walking to stand before the counsel with stately strides, his rich robes thrashing about his legs with each step a clear reflection of his mood. "Our influence is not enough to drive Mycenae away from notions of conquering anything that touches the Aegean. If we interfere so closely as to make sudden alliances with weaker areas he will not hesitate to attack us too. We are part of the Aegean as well as Thebe and a more important one at that. Greece may not exceed us in power now, but soon it may. Why start hostilities now?"  
  
"Our wall stands..." another tried to interject.  
  
"And it is but a wall!" Hector yelled back glaring at the elderly men set arrogantly in their chairs around a stagnant pool. He braced his thick shoulders glaring meaningfully at each nonchalant face. "We use it to defend ourselves against those outside the city when danger could just as easily be wandering inside the city as well. A wall is merely a temporary barrier in war."  
  
Priam smiled smoldering the brazen look in his son's eyes minutely. He rose from his seat stepping down to face Hector's inexorbably frustrated eyes imploring his own to understand his complex reasoning. "You are wise, Hector, for being such a young man," he fondly soothed placing his withered hands on either side of the prince's face, his thumbs gently brushing the light beard that grew there. "You are a great commander and I trust you confidently with my army and kingdom. But you are still young, and you so easily forget," he paused to place a paternal kiss atop the youth's forehead; "Apollo watches over us, favoring our country above others."  
  
A weary look crossed Hector's eyes as he peered solemnly at his father's calm expression. "I know father, but the power of the gods cannot be weighed so greatly in our cause."  
  
"And why not?" Priam asked still gripping his son's face firmly between his hands. "Who has more power than the gods themselves?"  
  
"No one, father," he replied looking quietly to his feet. "Apollo watches over us, of that I'm sure and thankful. But even Apollo must bend his will to that of Zeus's." Glancing upward he sought his father's confused stare and held it as he finished, "Zeus favors the Greeks, father, and no one may protect us from the king of the gods himself."  
  
They analyzed each other a moment, each trying desperately to discern the true feelings of the other upon the matter before silently looking away.   
  
"I will discuss this matter with my counsel. In a few days I will meet with the Thebian ambassadors again and see what propositions might be made to our benefit should an alliance be finalized. In the mean time, I expect you to keep the army on its feet and in battle condition in case we are called on again."  
  
"Yes, my king," Hector replied stoically, his formal address the only sign of his anger and defeat as he stalked as nobly as possible from the affairs room, stopping only momentarily to change from his regal clothes before heading toward the stables on the far side of the palace.

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Hector groaned softly to himself, sweeping his brush against the accumulated grime coating his horse's flanks with fluid, hasty strokes. A man could only take so much turmoil in a single day before his mind slowly began to fall precariously toward the steep precipice that shielded his sanity from the firey demon's of his temper below. And a man could only bear his younger brothers' stupidity to a sensable level. Taking a horse from the stable and releasing it in the paddock was one matter; taking the stable and releasing it into the unfenced plains of the Trojan perimeter was an entirely different matter. A matter he felt inclined to personally punish his brothers over.  
  
It was a fair prank indeed, Hector mused. One that would buy the two imps enough time to raid the stable for barley and wine before any capable hand was able to chastise them and foil their plot. All it took was the flick of a latch from the main paddock and each inhabiting horse was free to wander as they pleased causing every immediate stable hand to jump onto their own, stabled horse's back and rush upon the herd before they could scatter making the job of rounding them up harder than it seemed. It was no small task whatsoever. It had taken thirty equestrians four hours to round up some thousand horses from the plains and now each was caked generously in a thin layer of sandy mud.  
  
A fair prank indeed. A sound whipping seemed in line for the young princes curtesy of their eldest brother himself. Tomorrow he planned on making them clean all the horses lacking current care, and they would work until they were done. Between himself and the grooms, only three hundred had been cleaned in a two hour span.  
  
He could already feel the ache in his shoulders, weary from every meticulous stroke given each horse. The grooms weren't much better off either by the look of them, each favoring his back and arms with a visible limpness. Soon the night shift would come in, however, and the pace would be swiftened despite their being only a fourth as many stable hands working in the evening and even fewer at night. He'd have to make sure they left about one hundred horses for his brothers' punishment the next day. They'd earned it after all.  
  
With a deep sigh, he resumed his task catching each mud cluster with the course bristles of his long brush. A few stable hands talked quietly amongst themselves, snickering occasionally as one made a witty comment obviously happy for some sort of short relief from their duties. One pointed at the opposite side of the stable making an outline with his finger as he quietly spoke causing the others to watch and laugh at his antic joining in with their own.  
  
Perplexed by the gesture, Hector scanned the area spotting a woman of slender stature standing near the east entrance, her hand playing idly with the forelock of a curious, bay horse whom stood calmly enjoying her ministrations from the door of his stall  
  
Realizing what the men were most likely mocking for their own enjoyment, he called out, "The horses in the fourth stable have yet to be fed."  
  
The men looked up recognizing his authoritative voice and nodded dispersing their meeting and returning to their chores with only a few more words passed between them as they left, the mood of their conversation relatively shaken. Hazel eyes watched his back curiously as he shook his head in irritation and bent to loosen the lead of his current charge, the horse stomping in excitement as he was led from the confines of the grooming block back to his allotted stall.  
  
"What brings you to the stables, my lady?" he asked in a polite voice, releasing the horse into its stall before turning to look at her.   
  
She was a pretty thing, tall but not masculine in her figure. She refused to meet his eyes, watching him with mild glances as she hid her face cautiously behind the head of the horse she gingerly pet. When she continued to ignore his advance, he continued.  
  
"My lady, it isn't very proper for you to be here unattended," he said coaxingly noting how her eyes nervously flickered across the floor as he spoke. "Where is your escort?"  
  
He heard her clear her throat definitively before raising her head and casting a wayward glance in his direction searching his face with a wary sweep.   
  
"I'm sorry to have intruded, good sir. Please accept my apologies," she quietly stated keeping her eyes well averted from his own as she turned to leave, a bit hesitant as she reached the exit that led into the streets of the city.  
  
He frowned lightly to himself upon seeing her distraught features, her eyes scanning the perimeter for a semblance of something familiar yet seeming to find none in the vicinity. With brisk, momentous strides, he came to her side peering out into the slowly darkening court just outside the stable, currently deserted at the approach of dusk.  
  
"Where is your escort, my lady?" he questioned her, the bewilderment in his tone not escaping her as his eyes deftly searched for an absent presence.   
  
"He must have wandered a bit while waiting for me," she quickly answered stepping away from his side as he looked suspiciously over her lanky form. The challenge in his eyes shook her, but she replied with a chaste smile that slightly assured him and decreased the sharpness of his gaze fractionally until it was bearable to watch. "I will be fine, sir," she said teasingly. "Not even the wolves could catch me in this fair city."  
  
Nodding slowly, he inclined his head and took his leave allowing the young woman to be on her way peacefully. The soft scuffle of her thin soled sandles brushing against the relaxed pavement rustled ruefully in his ears as she gradually disappeared into the dim glow of the setting sun. When he turned around to gauge her progess, she was gone amidst the rising buildings and lower awnings of Troy. He sighed lowly to himself before adjusting the leather halter and lead still occupying his hands and left to search the paddock for yet another grimy horse to clean.

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(A/N) Sorry if Hector seems a bit OC right now, and I'm trying a new approach to Andromache since the movie doesn't show much of her personality and everyone seems to have made her a bit more brazen than I think she would be. I may be taking quite a few artistic liberties on this one. Please review!!

Special thanks to: Julia, Trust No One, Aragorn's Girl Arwen, Psychotic Tanuki, :), Freakazoid, Sarahw, Anariel, w, shi-sha, Another Me, and orliNkeira for reviewing, I hope to hear from you again!! And a particularly special thanks to maryscot for emailing me and being a fun, new person to talk to.


	3. Chapter 3: Call On Me, Soldier

(A/N) Having a bit of trouble characterizing Hector since he should act younger than he did in the movie so bear with me. We got some good interaction in this chapter, and I'm sure we can all guess said mystery woman. Let's see what happens..... Oh and this chapter is also about 150% bigger than the previous two. _Enjoy!!!_

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**Lagniappe  
Chapter 3: Call On Me, Soldier**

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Night had fallen and with it came the sweet breezes that often danced through the city in the absence of the sun. The birds and their blithe songs had retired for the day leaving the crickets and cicadas to press their quiet melodies into the ears of those at rest. Wishing to be home and in the company of their families, the city's people had also cleared the streets leaving only a few rogues to wander unhindered by a crowd. However, as the lights in the town slowly extinguished, melting into the growing darkness that accompanies the night, one area remained fully lit battling the moon for supremacy.   
  
The night shift had already relieved the earlier stablehands of their duties allowing the tired, musty men to return home to their wives and children, broken blisters adorning their hands and new callouses splintering from their skin a testament to the day's hard work. Hector longed to be one of those men, yet pity for the filthy horses standing in their itchy, sandy pelts within the paddock and yet unattended kept him staunchly to his task.   
  
Just one more, he decided tethering a scraggly looking gelding and leading him quickly to a grooming block. He would return to the palace after he had managed to clean the sand and dirt from the horse's sorrel coat and tomorrow he would return to finish the rest of the horses, dragging the two culprits of this prank behind him for their share as well. Touching the horse's long fetlock in hopes of raising the large hoof for closer examination, he winced and retracted his hand finding a small burr embedded within the pad of his thumb. He grimaced pulling the assailant quickly from his finger and tossed it aside. A curry seemed to be in order for this horse's legs before he was turned out into pasture, but first he'd deal with the body while he had the necessary tools.  
  
It took him less time than he had supposed it would to brush the grime from the horse's coat leaving the freshly cleaned hair to glimmer lustrously in the dim torchlight provided by the stable. Satisfied, he patted the horse's neck slidding his fingers carefully down the coarse mane to find it tangle-free before leaving in search of small curry with which to pry the burr's from the horse's still knotted fetlocks. A small sound outside the stable struck his attention, just a mild rustle of dirt and rocks.  
  
Dogs, he guessed ambling casually toward the eastern entrance planning on scaring the animals away to keep the horses from panicking at the scent of a potential predator. A single dog couldn't do much damage if any, but a large pack could try to take down a foal should they become bold enough. He sighed lowly to himself turning the corner to where he'd heard the sound only to find the surrounding courtyard barren, not a single source of life inhabiting the area.  
  
The horse in the stable beside him nuzzled his arm nipping lightly at his uncovered arm causing the young prince to turn. Running a hand over the horse's forehead and nose, he smiled.  
  
"Perhaps I've been working longer than I thought," he said watching the curious look in the horse's eyes as it reached to sniff his unoccupied hand. "I'm even starting to hear things."  
  
Suddenly, the horse's ears pricked and it craned its neck upward staring at the wall with an intense look as its nostrils flared taking in the air. A moment passed and the horse relaxed glancing back down at Hector's alert figure and then back at the wall again seemingly less anxious but interested.  
  
"I guess something is out there," he whispered giving the horse's neck one last pat before making his way back out into the stable's courtyard.  
  
The air was warm for an autumn night, the occasional breeze giving little relief to those who passed through it. Hector stood warily surveying the courtyard in the sparce light finding only the tips of a cloak visible from behind the edge of the stable's corner. It remained nearly immobile, only a few threads bobbing with the person's breath as they stood.  
  
"Who's there?" he called out expecting to find a child hiding in the nook.   
  
No one answered and the tips of the cloak did not move from their spot. He took a slow step forward watching as the sound of his movement triggered another slight rustling of the cloak. Horse thief, he thought idly to himself. It was the perfect time for one to strike when there were few grooms to witness the crime much less stop it. But not this time. If there was one thing Hector knew about horse thieves, it was that they were more cowardly than children and just as easily overpowered. With quick, powerful steps, he rushed upon the corner grabbing the cloak fiercly in one hand and spun the person around to stare down into their face.  
  
"What are you doing here?!" he growled loudly shaking the person in his grasp forcefully until he heard them whimper meekly at the treatment.  
  
"I'm sorry," the person ejaculated in a near sob, slender hands reaching to clasp the hand holding her stiffly. "Please, my lord."  
  
He retracted his hand quickly releasing his captive and causing them to fall to their knees on the ground. Hazle eyes stared fearfully up at his face from their place below him, her full, lower lip trembling slightly in shock and fright. Her chestnut hair hung in sudden disarray, shorter strands clinging wettly to her forhead and others swaddling her shoulders and face as she gaped up at him, her terror apparent.  
  
"My lady," he gasped in realization, his earlier actions filling him with guilt at his treatment. He rushed to her side, feeling the tension in her muscles as he gently placed her on her feet looking her over quickly for injuries. "I apologize, I mistook you for someone else. I didn't know."  
  
She cradled herself in her arms looking away from his face and pulling her cloak more closely around her shoulders as though there had been a sudden chill. After a moment, she glanced cautiously at his face noting the regret laying openly in his brown eyes and gave a tentative, small smile; a gesture more to reassure herself more than him that she was indeed fine.  
  
"I'm sorry, I should have answered when you asked who was there," she said softly looking away demurely.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, his anxiety shining clearly through his features as he spoke. "I didn't hurt you did I?"  
  
She shook her head, careful to keep her eyes averted and he sighed deeply in relief. He watched a small grin trace her lips at his open display of concern and smiled wryly to himself, glad to merely have caused no harm.  
  
"Why are you here?" he asked quietly watching the smile fade from her mouth at his simple question. A moment passed and she began to wring her hands, a sort of tangible apprehension washing from her aura in waves to Hector's perceptive senses. "Surely you haven't been waiting here all evening?" he asked looking around the courtyard for another person. "Where's your escort?"  
  
Again she didn't answer, opting instead to turn away from him and walk slowly in the opposite direction stopping when she reached the mouth of the stable and fidgetting worriedly, her head turning about to find something they both knew wasn't there.  
  
"My lady," he inquired, his voice soft and cautious. "What happened? We both know it isn't proper for you to be here at night, much less alone and unescorted."  
  
She didn't turn to meet him as he carefully walked forward hoping his advance would not alarm her. Instead she hung her head, watching as her toes clutched and curled in her scandles. Standing almost directly behind her, he waited listening to the dull hum of the wind and the nickering of the horses in the field.  
  
Finally, she whispered, "I'm lost."  
  
He barely heard her, his ears picking up the syllables as a muffled statement before he nodded to himself in understanding. Instead of barraging her with questions like most men would, he merely sighed stepping beside her and waiting until she glanced at his face to continue.  
  
"Would you like some help returning home then, my lady?" he asked, the genuine quality of his voice assuring her of his dependability.  
  
She smiled brightly, her eyes holding his stare for the first time in quiet acknowledgement. "Yes, my lord. Thank you."  
  
He nodded a response, carefully peering through the stable to see the few grooms still working rigorously on their horses and his own yet unfinished horse prancing boredly at the grooming block a few yards away.  
  
"If you would wait just a moment, I'd be glad to escort you myself," he informed her taking her elbow gently and leading her to a stool situated near the horse he was grooming. "I must finish this horse first, and then I'll take you home."  
  
She sat quietly watching him enrapt with interest. He was good with animals, she could tell by his cool manner around them and the confidence with which he moved as he stroked his curry down the horse's cannon bones and through its fetlocks, the muscles in his arms constricting softly beneath his skin. Patience shone clearly in his eyes when the horse occasionally stomped or swatted him mildly with its bristly tail and she admired the skill with which he calmed the animal when its agitation at remaining still grew more apparent. Finally, he seemed satisfied with his work, placing the curry in a bin beside the grooming block and running a brush quickly over each leg. Unknotting the lead rope from the railing, he motioned for her to follow him as he silently led the horse to the far end of the stable where an unoccupied stall awaited him.  
  
"You enjoy their company very much, don't you?" she asked quietly, watching the soft glow in his smile follow each movement the horse made as it was released into the cubicle.   
  
"I do," he readily agreed, rubbing the animal's cheek as it returned to sniff his hair and face invasively.  
  
She smiled as well chucking amiably and reached out a hand to pat its sinewy neck. "It would seem they enjoy yours just as much. I've hardly heard of men with such talents." Her expression suddenly dimmed, a solemn quotient ebbing the jubilance at the corners of her eyes. "I envy you for that, sir."  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, the confusion in his voice apparent.  
  
She thought a moment staring quietly at her feet, the blush in her cheeks a sure sign of her embarrassment. "Nevermind, I shouldn't have said anything at all. Forgive me."  
  
"I understand if you don't want to tell me," he stated almost vaguely occupying himself with the horse's mane. "Your thoughts are your own. Keep them if you wish."  
  
Startled with his reaction, she couldn't help but throw her head sideways staring openly at his calm profile before quickly relaxing, happy that he would not push her as many men would. "Thank you."  
  
He was a handsome man, she noted, perhaps five years older than herself with rich, brown hair and dark, expressive eyes. His cheeks, chin, and upper lip were moderately cursed with a short beard and his long locks curled softly behind him, pinned by small, golden clips. His many scars and full muscles easily indicated a life in the army as opposed to the more quiet lifestyle of a groom or servant. But why would a soldier spend his day in the stable, she wondered.  
  
"Shall we be off?" he asked extending a hand towards her.  
  
She nodded equitably, placing her smaller hand in his larger, more powerful one feeling his fingers grasp her lower arm almost tenderly as he led her out of the stable and into the deserted Trojan streets.  
  
"Where do you live?" he inquired gruffly trying to decide upon which route to take.  
  
"I'm only visiting, but for the time I'm staying in the women's quarters just outside the palace," she replied feeling out her way timidly in the darkness.  
  
"Are you?" He watched her for some display of falseness, but found none as she looked him resolutely in the eye.  
  
"I am, why?"  
  
He shook his head dismissively staring ahead once more and veering onto a narrower street. "I don't meet many women that stay there apparently. Only the princesses and their cousins. It shocked me that you said that."  
  
"Yes well, they aren't the only ones that are noble women now are they?" she replied teasingly tossing him a mischievious glance. "I've met some rather intriguing women that are neither princesses nor their cousins in my short time there, soldier."  
  
He turned to her, a perplexed expression riling his features. "Soldier?"  
  
She returned the look, innocence shining brightly through her. "I'm sorry, does that insult you? Are you not infact in the army?"  
  
"No, no, it's alright I suppose," he quickly absolved shaking his hand dismissively before him. "I suppose I am a soldier, if you will. I've just never been regarded by the title." He smiled thoughtfully as he watched her. "I actually think it sounds fine, intriguing almost."  
  
"I'm glad," she beamed catching his stare and holding it for a moment before turning away, the intensity of his gaze burning her cheeks.  
  
They walked a few minutes in silence, one thinking to themselves and the other memorizing the path for future reference. A few gales sent the young woman's hair asunder and gradually the rocky path evened slowly transforming itself in a cobbled street, intricately lain and designed. Eventually, Hector decided to pursue her once more, his curiosity yet unsated.  
  
"May I ask your name, my lady?" he requested searching her face for emotion as she hesitated to respond.  
  
"I would rather you not," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes keenly averted.  
  
He furrowed his brow. "Why not?"  
  
She gave him an evasive glance feeling his grip on her lower arm move to her elbow, firm yet supportive and knew that it was an inquiry instead of a demand. "Because, soldier, to give you my name would be to give you my secrets." She cast him a teasing smile. "And I have many secrets."  
  
"Indeed, I can agree with that," he conceded staring straight ahead once more, the ghost of a smile curving the edges of his mouth.  
  
"Do you have a name, soldier?" she asked nudging him impishly with her shoulder as they walked. "Or have you suddenly grown too fond of my calling you 'soldier' that you've forgotten it?"  
  
"Although I have in fact grown quite fond of it," he jested back; "I do indeed have a name."  
  
"And what is it?"  
  
His smile grew a bit wicked and he chuckled quietly in the back of his throat, thankful for the friendly mood. "But my lady, to tell you my name would be to tell you my own secrets."  
  
With a sigh, she resigned herself rolling her eyes at his mocking, but light-hearted gesture. "I can't argue with that now can I?"  
  
"No you can not. But perhaps you will answer a different question for me?"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"How did you end up at the stables today and what happened to your escort?" he asked, his gaze becoming a bit more forceful and demanding as she tried to look away avoiding the subject.  
  
"I never had an escort," she replied folding her hands together even as he held her elbow and wrung her fingers between them.  
  
She suddenly lurched backward, his sudden stop and grip on her causing her stride to be unbalanced, but he easily supported her even as she began to fall situating her easily back on her feet. It was a masculine move, one that endeared her and frightened her all the same at the propensity of it, but she braved her face in preparation for whatever such a man could offer.  
  
"What were you doing roaming the streets without an escort?" he questioned her firmly, the intensity in his eyes threatening yet entreating in its fullness.  
  
She cast her gaze to her feet, embarrassed by the situation and at being scolded by a complete stranger. "You're hurting my arm," she said stiffly unwilling to let this man hear the slight fear beating quickly in her heart. He immediately released her elbow as though she'd burned him and took a step back still staring heatedly at her downcast face awaiting her answer. "I had an arguement with my brother while we were in the market and in my anger I separated myself from him thinking I would return to the women's quarters at once to avoid him. I didn't know the way back as well as I thought I did obviously. This is my first time in Troy and it is easy to get turned around in the many streets."  
  
He nodded his agreement quietly issuing an apology for his treatment. "Did I hurt you much?" he asked glancing at her arm. "I forget myself sometimes, I don't find myself in the company of women often and tend to act a bit rashly."  
  
She waved off his concern allowing him to take her arm once more, his grip astoundingly gentle as he led her. Leaning into him slightly, a sign of her growing fatigue, she closed her eyes to take in a coming breeze with great appreciation and joy.  
  
"Do you ride often?" he asked her quietly after the tension between them had been fully released, the heat of her shoulder against his side almost scorching in its proximity and yet a welcome display of trust.  
  
"No, not at all. Why do you ask?" She gazed quizzically up at him, her lashes fluttering in vain to keep her fully awake and alert.  
  
He shrugged slightly meeting her gaze for a brief instant before she looked away, the day's events obviously beginning to weigh more heavily on her than before. "You seemed so at ease in the stable that I would have thought you'd spent a great deal of time in one before today. Usually ladies are only permitted in the stable when waiting for a mount."  
  
She laughed softly to herself, a calm sound that fluttered about his ears in small tinkles. "I haven't been in a stable in years. You're right, it isn't proper for a lady to be seen gallivanting through one. I haven't even been on a horse since I was ten, and then it was only when my father or brothers would seat me in front of them as we travelled." She gave a pleasant sigh while she thought. "I do remember I loved it though."  
  
Giving a short nod of understanding, he turned their course advancing up a steep path laden with stairs eventually plateauing into a diaphanous garden. They strolled through the iridescent plants, Hector occassionally stopping to allow her time to examine a particular specimen or smell a dainty flower, before the faint lights of the women's quarters came into view.  
  
"I suppose you can find your way easily from here, my lady," he stated releasing her elbow and looking at her carefully.  
  
She nodded flashing him a nervous smile, keenly avoiding his eyes. "I can, thank you. I appreciate your kindness."  
  
He shrugged, running a hand anxiously through his hair and tousling a few of the strands in the back. "It was nothing, my lady. Any man in my position would have done the same."  
  
Shaking her head emphatically, she reached out a thin, frail hand to squeeze his own thicker one insistantly, her thumb unconsciously grazing his skin almost lovingly. "No, soldier, they wouldn't." She sighed, watching their linked hands in such a thoughtful manner he thought it melancholy. "I've known many men in my life, some strong in mind others strong in body, but none that would lead a strange woman home without giving her demeaning words or harsh treatment. You've been very kind to me, soldier."   
  
She finally raised her gaze meeting his own with a vibrance he had never known a woman to exude, the force of it silencing his protests and leaving him in deliberate awe.  
  
"And for that I thank you," she finished giving his hand one last squeeze before allowing it to swing uselessly back to his side. "All my life I've been a bit cynical of men, only trusting a few of my brothers and hating the thought of men and their summonings completely. However, I don't think I'd mind being called on by such a kind man." She smiled brightly, the edges of her eyes sparkling and alighting for a moment. "Goodnight, soldier. Thank you."  
  
"Goodnight, my lady," he responded, his voice barely more than a breathy whisper.  
  
With a smile still gracing her face, she turned and slowly strolled up the long trail to the women's quarters, a guard easily allowing her entrance with only a few words of passing. And he watched her, the smoothness of her gate and the fluid sway of her hair as she moved mesmerizing in its ethereal vantage. Once she was out of sight, he left for his own room in the higher recesses of the castle where his bed felt oddly cold. And for the first time in his life he realized something so important, so obvious that he had ignored it until the smile of a young lady had abruptly exposed it with painful clarity. For all his glory and all his prestige as the heir of Troy and commander of the world's finest army, he was completely, and utterly alone.  
  
But he didn't want to be.

* * *

(A/N) I'm going to try like mad to update before I leave Friday, but that may be a stretch. Expect one for sure a week from Saturday though. It's almost a guaranteed promise.

Special thanks once again to all that reviewed: Psychotic Tanuki, sarahw, hentaistar, Freakazoid, Another Me, Julia, Adania, and shi-sha. It means the world to me that you take the time to review.


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